Care for a swim?
by Sakura Fleur Miyuku
Summary: Ahiru's human, life is normal, and...two boys are fighting with pranks for her love? What happens when Fakir is injured in an immature joke that may cause him to pay a high cost...? Just read. By Fauxfire101 and me, Sakura. Disclaimer-I-WE don't own PT.
1. The Rivalry

Hey, stalkers- I MEAN, guys! This is a little Fakiru fluff story me and Fauxfire101 have been working on for a while. Because we had to, as proud members of the Fakiru Fan Club Union. We're also annoying brother exterminators, so give us the message, if you need your annoying brother exterminated. That out of the way, please take note this may contain mild- _mild _swearing, mainly just those Fakir uses through out the series. It...uh, look out for Soske as well, he's a bit...shady around...women. \ (^o^) / Sorry guys! Blame Fauzfire101 for his pervy attitude! XD Uh, this is kind of based off of a true story, that me and my writing (character-abusing) partner conveniently share, so...enjoy! If our misery is enjoyable! :D

* * *

Ahiru shuffled her feet. She was looking down, and her face was bright red. The the two of them were sitting out on a bench next to the abandoned lake, and Ahiru was attempting (and failing) to build up the courage to say something she'd never said before. Something she would literally have to sacrifice her own life to say, back then, that is.

Fakir wasn't exactly annoyed. Ahiru was irritating, no doubt, but in a cute, innocent way. Yet, it was the third time that week she had called him out the the lake, and she still hadn't said a word. Fakir wasn't one to object, but he still had a desperation to know what the hell was going on.

Would she really turn into a speck of light if she confessed? No. That was just Tutu. Ahiru wasn't tutu. She was Ahiru. Her feelings were her own. _'I'm going to tell him this time. For real now. I'm not kidding_ _around! I have to tell him,'_ Ahiru mused anxiously. "I- I lo-" she stuttered.

"Pardon? Excuse me, I didn't catch it," said Fakir, who was staring at two young birds -in a neat, sophisticated way- up high in a tall oak tree.

"Well..." she whispered.

Well, that blew it.

He lost his patience.

"How many times do I have to tell you? Don't start saying something if there's nothing you have to say!" shouted Fakir, standing up. Ahiru shivered, unsure whether the action was provoked by the remaining silkiness in the tone of his voice, or his increasing volume. Either way, she winced and cowered down.

"Oh- Sorry about that. I guess I lost control," said Fakir, half shocked at what he had done, half embarrassed. The salmon-haired female forced herself to talk.

Lurching out of sight from the oblivious lovers- ehem, pair (F-Fakir, I'm sorry! o), a male figure released a menacing gaze upon the awkward scene. The male in question, Soske by name, was infuriated. Again. Fakir, Fakir, Fakir. Always him. Never Soske himself. Be the cause Fakir being a prodigy at ballet, Soske failing epically at the subject, or another, there was absolutely no way he would allow _his _Ahiru to confess to that man-slut. Today or ever.

"I-I love-" Ahiru whimpered when the confidently refreshed Soske launched himself at Fakir. Fakir, startled yet all too aware of this course of action, stepped away. But to his surprise and horror, instead of smashing into the ground, Soske fired/knocked Ahiru into the lake.

There was a minuscule split second when Ahiru was in mid-air. In that second, Ahiru blurted...the word, and changed into the small yellow bird that she was ever familiar with- her true form. She then plummeted into the water and re-transformed into a human female.

Fakir's face was red with anger.

...And something else.

"Why you son of a-" boomed Fakir, grasping Soske by the shoulders and shaking his form roughly.

Soske, inside, was ashamed of himself. Yet he was over-joyed that she hadn't confessed. And he still held the strongest hatred for Fakir. Ahiru coughed and re-surfaced from the water. Soske gulped, whistled, and openly gazed. His eyes fixed pointedly on Ahiru's bared flesh, next opting to move greedily downward.

Ahiru still hadnt quite processed the fact that she was completely and utterly nude as of yet. She wondered why the boy had that giddy expression on his face, and why he wasn't looking her straight in the eye.

Fakir first coloured light crimson, the flush to his cheeks spreading like an uncontrollable forest fire until he could no longer think straight. He yelped after retrieving his senses, an audible whimper cut off when he dove into the lake, searching hastily for Ahiru's school uniform to no avail.

It was overwhelming. Soske shakily paced up to Ahiru. He slowly reached out with both hands, then he pushed them in quickly. Ahiru still wasn't quite sure what all the fuss was about.

Fakir gaped upon Soske attempting to touch Ahiru, Anger boiling inside his veins as he yanked himself out of the sloshing water. Just before Soske's hands had a chance to land on Ahiru, Fakir tackled him and punched him full in the face. Blood oozed out of Soske's nose. He grasped Fakir's neck and squeezed.

"Clothes..." choked Fakir.

Ahiru pondered to the meaning behind his croaky voiced words. She glanced questioningly down at her exposed, dripping body. Her cheeks lit on fire, I mean almost _literally_. She muttered a hurried 'quack' and once again transformed. The light-headed waterfowl dove into the lake to retrieve her clothing.

The males included in the drama never ceased in continuing to rip each other apart through punches and blasts to the shin. Soske gasped for sweet oxygen and sputtered, "I'll never forgive you for this!" "I swear I'll kill you, and it will _not _be the last thing I do, rest assured!" yelled Fakir not-as-desperately.

And thus began the rivalry.


	2. No Use Crying Over Spilt Water

Here it is, stalkers! OW! S-sorry, I mean guys. I'll get it right next time. Next time, when we get off our back-sides and write. Fauxfire101 and Sakura Fleur Miyuku -aka the annoying brother exterminators- present...our lives! I-I mean, Chapter 2! :D

* * *

_And thus began the rivalry._

3 months on. It continued. Persistently.

And Ahiru was quite frankly _sick _of it.

Once again, she had been awoken by the ear-shattering 'melody' of death threats, from _guess who_.

"GAH- Damn brat, the immature twit put worms in my bag again...amateur."

_'Gulp.'_

Why now? When everything was settled, Ahiru was human- thanks to Fakir's handiwork- and she had re-obtained her dancing skill, the Swan Lake performance was coming up soon, also..

Ahiru sighed. Why did this have to start? Ever since she was supposedly accidentally tackled into a lake, Fakir and...Soske, was it? The two had been fighting persistently and driving her insane...!

Then why...did she feel responsible?

Was it because she had not taken care of her own mouth? The stifled, incoherent 'quack' that had escaped the boundaries of her mouth had...triggered something in Soske, evidenced by his flushed face and Fakir's rage.

"Ahiru, hurry up, are you begging for a detention?" Fakir's head popped round the corner of the room he'd been washing his worm-infested bag in, his action synchronized with a jerk of the head from his waterfowl-turned-girl house mate.

That waterfowl, in question, scattered across the hall to meet Fakir at the doorway, snatching her bag off the hook in the process.

Man, the walk through the woods to the Academy was tense. With Fakir pouting about the stench of soil in his bag, and Ahiru avoiding his gaze at all costs (blushing furiously when she tripped on her braid and face-planted into the ground), it was...as awkward as Fauxfire101's first date. Oh, I shouldn't have said that...0-0;

Ehem, excuse me. It was awkward, in any case, and the air felt like it was strangling and suffocating both of the pair. Sweat began to bloom (bloom? No, seriously, how can sweat...? Oh, what the hell.) on Ahiru's slick forehead as the silence engulfed them both.

To the unmentioned students at Kinkan Academy, it was clearly obvious that there was a change in the two characters' behavior, and anyone oblivious to the difference (_would be left tied to a tree by Fauxfire101_) would seem a fool in anyone's eyes. Everyone, who knew of the incident of course, would have straight-forwardly force the blame onto Soske or Fakir (mainly the Mytho fangirls blamed the latter).

...Everyone, that is, except Ahiru. She was the only one feeling herself responsible for...

"Ack! Dammit, not again!"

...the bucket of water that toppled onto Fakir's head from a branch towering above them.

"F-Fakir!" Ahiru swung her head in the direction of the noise, unsure of whether to gasp in shock or fall to the ground in laughter at the sight of a very water-soaked Fakir. At first she just stood still, startled.

Then the hilariousness of the whole situation settled in. She tried not to laugh. She really did, it just... wan't working very well. In the end, she couldn't hold her laughter in anymore. Somehow it spilled out from behind the hand which was clasped on her mouth. At first, she tried to cover her laughter with coughs, but it didn't help. It was clear she was laughing.

Soske smirked. His tactics were working. Ahiru was laughing at Fakir! He did a fist pump, and nearly fell out of the tree. (Well that might have been because two certain fanfiction account owners were pushing him… but hey, who can blame US? Er… them…)

Ahiru had to admit, Fakir looked kind of ...attractive like this. As a matter of fact... he was pretty hot. (FAKIR! ARE YOU OKAY? WHY ARE YOU SUDDENLY BRIGHT RED?) His soaked clothes were clinging to him, outlining his 'sexy' (AHIRU? YOU TOO? SOMEONE CALL THE DOCTOR!) figure. His fists were clenched, and though he may have looked good, he did not look pleased. Yet looking at Ahiru's amused, flushed face, it was extremely hard to stay angry.

Fakir smiled. At first it remained minuscule, but soon he was laughing harder than Ahiru. They chuckled until they both fell on the ground, gasping for air as if their lives depended on it. Well, they probably did, but it's still fun to express. Ahiru was the first to get up. She and her oasis partner smiled, and she offered a hand to Fakir.

He oddly felt it should be the 'cliché' guy helping the girl up, yet didn't object. For mere seconds, they just stood there, smiling at each other. The tension had been broken.

As it abruptly hit her, Ahiru gasped.

"_WE"RE GONNA' BE LATE!_" she virtually screamed. Fakir jumped, startled. He had entirely forgotten about class. The pair began to dash toward the Academy. Strangely, neither of them realized that they were still running hand in hand.

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Okayz, parts of this so far may seem sappy or OOC, but (blame Fauzfire101!) excuse us. Please review, stalke- *hit over head with convenient sauce pan* G-guys! \ (^o^) / To the Annoying Brother Exterminator Cave, away!


	3. NeverEnding Combat

Hey _guys._ Have you met Stanley? He's real nice. Oh, sorry. Well, we managed to juice this in whilst being occupied with the Top Secret Mission in which we must destroy all homework, but that's another fanfiction we are un-willing to upload. So, in any case, please enjoy and read the dictionary.

Was that last one _really _necessary?

* * *

Soske was awestruck. He hadn't noted or spotted any flaw in his plans, yet somehow they had only succeeded in...bringing the two closer. He had to take Ahiru- _his _Ahiru, away from that slut, Fakir (I'm sooorry Fakiiir! This is Soske's point of view!). He had to do something. Something _big_.

Wait- Ahiru only admired Fakir because he could dance, right? If he could cause Fakir some serious injury- a broken leg maybe- then he couldn't dance. And if he couldn't dance, Ahiru would forget him, right? Soske grinned widely. What a genius he was! Soske swore to himself that he would work up to that top, superior level- work on his technique, gain good balance and-

"Ack!"

Thump.

...fall out of trees. (Hey, don't look at us. We're innocent! Right, Sakura?)

(Agreed. We're totally innocent. Well, no, not completely. We have read Amako-Senpai/Manda-Senpai's masterpieces... Ehem, now back to the lovers- hey, Fakir! stop covering my mouth!)

"Sigh...I guess it was inevitable, huh, Fakir...? But you? The star student, with a detention? Yagiko-Sensei was really at it today..." Ahiru squeezed the remaining content out of the abused mop, causing yet another glistening puddle on the Academy's hall tile floor.

Fakir mirrored her actions, seconds after unison. He let out a fairly audible sigh, expressing his attitude, much alike his water-fowl friend's. No matter how fast they paced to dance class, they could not escape the promised punishment for tardiness. So here they were, bunched up in the hallway, flinging sparks of water at the occasional greasy stain on the ground.

(English Translation- Ahiru and Fakir were late for ballet class, therefore received an after-school detention consisting of mopping the halls. Kapeesh?)

Ah, boredom. It was creeping in. As if it hadn't since their arrogant teacher had started the whole monologue on en Pointe. And in a vague attempt to shatter that tiring atmosphere, Ahiru gently dipped her fragile fingers into the liquid occupying the bucket by her feet, allowing that moisture to coat her skin. In an unexpected chain of events, Ahiru flicked the water at Fakir's face, the sudden onslaught awakening him from his robotic, persistent movement of mopping the ancient tiles.

Fakir's eyes darted up upon feeling the water settle on his cheek, and he blinked several times to rid himself of the blur in his vision it had caused. A small smirk came to rest on his lips as Ahiru giggled at his stoic reaction, further spreading as he returned the splash of water.

Ahiru snorted sarcastically, grinning as the water-fight became more heated and amusing, their clothes dampening at every hit.

...Eventually, they had completely spent the water from the buckets, and Fakir, still half-smiling, left to fetch more...along with a towel. He was glad Ahiru was attempting to snap the tension and depression digging into them during the immature conflict between him and...oh yeah, Soske (definitely _not _the one we just pushed out of a tree, right, Fauxy? ;) ). He did his best to return that happiness, not allowing his anger and frustration to over-take the sheer joy from seeing her human again. And yet, she still hadn't got what she wanted to get of her chest...off her chest yet, perhaps he could help her with that too. (Ooh...how sly, Fakir! No, not really though...:/)

(At this point, Fakir may seem slightly OOC...I mean, seriously, a water fight...? Um, I do tend to mess up the character's brains...^^ It's all for the genre people.)

After fully cleaning up, the two returned to their lockers to gain their possessions to head home. Fakir was slipping his agile foot into his left shoe when...

"Aaah!"

The same 'sensation' of a dagger invading skin penetrated through his body, he himself immediately retracting his foot from the material to see...a layer of face-up needles. Ha. No doubt, this was _his _doing again. Clearly. Only _he _would perform such a common, amateurish tactic. Moaning as the pain throbbed, refusing to be forgotten, he heaved his limp foot into his palm and pathetically limped to the lavatory to treat the small scars ripped into the flat bottom of the appendage. This wasn't going to be ending any time soon, as far as he could tell.

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Hope you don't mind the shout out, Manda-Senpai! ^^;


End file.
